Atef Ayadi


Colors’ Hysteria


They come scrambling,
Racing,
Competing,
And
Praising each other;
Like people in a big town;
Competition is always hostile.
They entered
The white canvas
From the four corners;
Few from the sides.
They came
Yelling
And cheering.
They invaded the canvas
Like the Romans entered the gates of
Jerusalem;
Like Eileen entered me.
With the same love and
The same human rhetoric.

Colors came first,
Then a wave of forms
Followed them;
Like the Olympics’ opening.
I am the only
Public,
The canvas is an unwelcome
And unfinished
Stadium.
Both colors and forms
Started to draw
Patterns
And metaphors.

I can see Eileen’s name,
I can see Eileen’s face,
I can see Eileen’s smile too,
Building up,
Drop by drop;
I can see Eileen
Laying down
Along the canvas
With her smile of orange
Then, Standing up;
She glanced at me
Then, she walked away.

Colors, ink
And water
Shake hands
And embrace each other
It is really a human scene, ...
Human feast.
Some colors
Clash against a few forms
Others get a long
Naturally;
Others were
In a rush
Vanished;
A dozen were just watching the scene
Only one color is acting
Exactly like Eileen.

I never predicted
How the canvas was going
To look like
I never judged the painting
‘Cause it always triggers
My desire
For Eileen.

My colors are my words;
My words are Eileen;
Eileen is the sun
The sun rises
I feel worm.
Eileen is warm too,
And then she runs;
Eileen always runs
when she is warm.

The canvas
Is almost done.
The colors are exhausted,
The forms are drunk,
And I am sober.
The blue sky is there,
Some squared doors
And windows
In red,
Blue, and
Pink
Are open
To let the air
Circulating
And rejuvenate
The sad fireplace.

The painting is done.
I called the painting
Smiling Eileen.

Submitted: Friday, April 21, 2006
Edited: Wednesday, May 31, 2006

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